Word Pictures
by NijiBrush
Summary: A One-Shot collection that I used as early character sketches before starting my longer main story.
1. The Assistant

The Assistant (Max's POV)

I found her at a schoolyard. Or one could say she found me.

My eyes stared through the glass pane but seemed only to focus on the raindrops clinging to it in small beads. The sky was darkened and the clouds it offered weren't more than a dark blanket across the horizon. Sitting down the paintbrush in my hand I released one slow sigh. A sigh for an unpaintable sky, and for the thoughts that made it doubly so. For the assistant that always seemed to make it doubly so.

Turning away from the window I paced across to the kitchen sink and rinsed the bits of paint from my hands. Then setting a small kettle of water to boil I sat down. Leaning into my hand I sighed again. Pia was impossible today as always. Insisting on only one solution to our current job assignment. And stubborn. And mostly irritating. I felt a frown twist at my face. And so often distracting me from my painting. I let out the third and what I promised to be final sigh.

Of course she also could be clever and useful at times. Though that wasn't why I had allowed her a partnership. In truth, I wasn't sure why I had. Though her refusal to take no for an answer, and also her occasional usefulness were the reasons I had given to others, and I suppose...largely to myself. But like this too black sky, that explanation never quite explained why I'd endure her frequent bouts of unreasonableness. Truthfully I had never understood why people often kept close company with those that seemed to be their complete opposite. Yet that was before I met her. There was something in her honest earnestness that I admired. And perhaps the greatest contrast between us was really in that honesty. In her openness when it came to both what she thought and felt.

I found it easier to hide behind lines and faces not my own. So much so that sometimes I found it hard to decipher what really was in my own heart. I felt the frown pull deeper at my face. Pia had a way of bringing something out of me. Something I would rather hide from, but something I knew was important none the less. And despite all the small ways she found to annoy me, I did miss her chatter at times. Particularly on a raining afternoon like today.

I supposed it was my own way of caring about her. My assistant. My friend...

The kettle whistle pulled me from my thoughts, but my thoughts had stifled my thirst anyway. So turning off flame below the bronze colored pot, I deiced to step out into the open rain. Out to meet her again. To form some sort of unspoken apology, and without explanation, I knew she would understand, and we would fall back into the job assignment at hand. Or at least I hoped it would be that easy. But as I rounded the corner out of my gate I found it easier even than that. And yet harder somehow...

There standing in the open dampness was my assistant. Blonde locks clinging to a face that looked close to tears from a mixture of both sadness and frustration. I couldn't quite empty my own face of the surprise so I just let myself stare at her silently. She would always choose the first word if given the chance, and that always made it easier on me than I deserved.

"Max I'm sorry you know!" And so she did. And so she was. And so was I. Sorry that my own apology never made it past the raindrops. Sorry that I wasn't as adept at bearing my own feelings.

But I did manage a nod as a gentle smile rose to my face. Taking a few steps to lessen the gap between us I met her blue eyes sincerely. And forcing myself to try and mirror even a glimmer of frankness I opened my mouth to speak.

"There were some valid points to your side of the argument though." Then meekly I added in a mumble. "I have to admit..."

Her gaze and spirits seemed to rise at the same moment as her pale blue eyes fixed on me. "R- Really...?" She said in what seemed like an uncharacteristic whimper from such a spirited person. But regaining herself she nodded confidently. "I mean right! We should talk about it, Max! I think we're close to getting to the bottom of this case!" So the chatter began and continued until I noticed a shiver seize her.

And it was then that I took off my suit coat and placed it around her thin yet bold shoulders, thus bringing her words to a sudden finish. I simply nodded as I smiled lightly again in acknowledgment of both her words and the sudden redness she didn't wish me to see growing on her damp face. Turning I began moving forward down the rain glistened cobblestones.

And though I didn't dare yet speak it, I was happy that without hesitation I knew...I knew she would be following me.


	2. Suppose

Suppose (Pia's POV)

I studied the lines of his face. From the indifference of his straight brows to the muddiness of his eyes. Then, as it always did, a small ever so annoying smile appeared on his lips. I felt my heart beat pound quicker in my ears. He was toying with me like he always did.

"Max it's your move." I quipped as the last of my patience drained away.

Rubbing at his chin for a few moments longer he finally reached to push a single pawn forward. Frowning I bit down on my lip. The move wasn't clever, which made me believe it must have been a trick. My next move was obvious, and though I had a feeling I would regret it I did the simple thing and took it. And yet again Mister Max, Solutioneer, had made a simpleton out of me.

"Checkmate..." He said gently as if in some vain attempt to lessen that very fact.

Crossing my arms I let out a frustrated huff. "Max!"

"You did your best." He offered as some sort of consolation prize.

My eyes sharpened onto him. "My best is never equal to yours."

His grin faded as those famous eyes of his took on a distant look. "No." He said calmly, yet firm enough for me to know he insisted on whatever was coming next. "Your best is merely different."

I took in one quick breath before I shot back: "Is that a compliment?" My tone was a little snide maybe, but I'd been tricked before by Max's dry sense of humor.

He didn't say anything at first then he turned to fix his eyes on mine. Now my heart was racing for very different reasons. For the intensity I saw burning somewhere behind his stare. As if whatever sort of well-hidden heart was inside of him, was glazing out at me. Then turning his head away his face changed into a look that seemed to say he was even surprised by it.

"Well yes...I suppose it is."

"You suppose?" I asked as my cheeks flared.

I wanted to be mad at him. I always did. And I think he deserved it. But I never could be. And that was something I didn't think I deserved. Leaning back in my chair I let myself slump, regardless of how unladylike mother would have reminded me it was. Resting my face in my hand I stared at him with a frown that I tried to hold onto. Hold onto even though his ridiculous compliment had made me want to smile. Beam even. Because somehow I cared for this Mister Max. And someday I knew I'd tell him so. Even though I knew that would likely be considered unladylike too. Leaning his head to the side slightly he raised an eyebrow as if to ask why I was staring at him so funny. That only made my face go red as I turned to look away. Everything and everyone was an open case to him and I knew he could read right through me.

That was the most frustrating thing of all. I didn't like to think I wasn't a very good actress, but I knew it was true. Then I heard his chair push out against the floor and watched as he stepped beside me. His face looked a little torn, as if he were silently struggling to decide his next words. Or at least I hoped he was struggling, because I sure was! Then finally opening his mouth he reminded us of our current client and rambled off a few details of the case that we both already knew. And finally the oh so charmed line of: "We need to get back to work."

I should have been angry again, and just maybe I should have questioned my desire to be his assistant in the first place. But I wasn't and I didn't. Instead, I knew all too well that I would have followed him across the world both in and out of danger. And even though my best was simpler, I knew I'd always give it to him. Standing I followed him out. And perhaps that was the cleverest of the Solutioneer's tricks. Making me fall in love with him. With that heart of stone and snide smile of his.

Then stopping suddenly he turned to look at me from over his shoulder. "Are you angry at me?" He said seeming somewhat indifferent to whatever the answer would be.

Crossing my arms I frowned before I rolled my eyes. "No, Max! For some reason!"

A shadow of a smile glittered on his face as he started walking again. Then in a slight witty tone, he whispered

"I suppose I'm glad..."


	3. Watercolors

Watercolors (Max's POV)

The night was as calm as it was graceful. Each cloud felt closer to the earth than at other times. Like gently released breathes from among the stars. Gripping my brush I felt it's contour comfort my hand like the embrace of an old friend. The darkness around me was still but I felt myself racing against the brushstrokes. As if I feared for the capture of my chosen image. And perhaps I did...

Furrowing my brow I felt my hand slash against the canvas. My mind felt focused, but my watercolors were failing to bring the hushed calm I sought. Thin clouds...and between them pinpoints of starlight... The image held a certain sadness... A loneliness I hadn't first noticed within the scene. Letting go of a final sigh I felt my arm go limp at my side. It was enough. Any more could ruin all my efforts. Any decent artist would have realized the same.

Just as any decent artist could have seen the traces of the soul that formed each line and stroke. I felt myself frown as I shook my head. The painting had already been ruined. Ruined by each petty emotion I felt running through myself. It was a beginners mistake. However, for the sake of the effort spent I felt it deserved some purpose. So with a still hand, I slowly signed it with the simple, or perhaps simply absurd, words: Love, Max.

It wasn't fit for the eyes of Joachim; I'd be too ashamed of it. But all the same, I knew not everyone shared his skilled view. Some people would be very pleased with any signed work. So carefully lifting it from the easel I gathered my things, before turning for home. Tonight it would have to bear being scorned by the very hands that crafted it, but soon enough I knew it would be adored. Adored, and hung on mansion walls.

Beyond myself, I felt a slight look of annoyance forming on my face. It was a look that regretted having to acknowledge that, at least in some ways, the painting knew it was truly going to please it's artist quite well. Though it was a trifle of a work of art, it was well enough to be a gift.

At least...to the unskilled blue eyes that would soon be pouring over it...


	4. Breaking Character

Breaking Character (Max's POV)

The twirling colors near the center of the ballroom were somehow disorienting. Neatly sitting down my cup on the blue China saucer, I nodded a politeness to the man still chatting away across the table. "Excuse me, I'd like some fresh air."

He stopped mid-sentence as he stroked his thick mustache in shock. Or perhaps wonder at what I suspected he thought rudeness on my part. But I didn't intend rudeness, though his constant speech was wearing on my ears.

"Oh, well alright old boy." The man gave half a smile as I gently slipped my chair out and stood. "It is a lovely night for a stroll isn't it?" I was happy he smiled; that he didn't seem truly offended, but I could tell he also had a thought of following me outside with more chatter. So nodding again I walked briskly toward the doors leading out to the balcony.

With a single glance back I noted with relief that I wasn't being followed. Breathing in the stillness of the night, I realized the peace and quiet was as needed to me as oxygen. So stepping closer to the railing I filled my lungs with the subtly of the evening. After gathering myself I slowly opened my eyes again and peered up at the sky.

Night clouds.

They were drifting by in thin wisps. Almost as if whispers trying to be heard above the clamor of the night. Inside I felt my heart tug for an empty canvass and my fingertips were longing for the familiar contour of my brush handle. It was an irritating, painful thing to not be able to act on the moment art welled up. It was like water filling a jar, and without an outlet I knew it would spill over. I let a sigh slip into the chilled air. The moment was lost, and it was, this time, unavoidable.

In the distance, I could still just make out the music and the dancers. The noise. And adding to it was the sudden sound of footsteps I heard from behind me. Like a voice I knew at once whom they belonged to. Too light to be a man's step, but too bold and forward to belong to the usual dainty ladies attending an affair at the Bendiff mansion. Reaching to massage my temples I waited for the string of words to begin. But the footsteps simply stopped and the words never came. So slowly turning to face her I stared with empty questioning eyes.

Her own eyes were a blue of which the June sky would envy, and they were mingling with annoyance and... And something I strangely at first couldn't place. Crossing her arms tighter she frowned a deep cross look and stepped beside me. Still silently.

"Pia?" I asked in an attempt to prompt her. That I was encouraging her to begin speaking was as troubling as it was surprising. But this wasn't the first instance we had stood in this sort of awkward silence. I already guessed I had done something wrong, and at any moment I would become very aware of just what. Her head snapped to peer at me sidelong. Her lips were curling with a slight quiver and her eyebrows were arched in that familiar way. It was the way that had just enough playful rage hidden beneath the surface that I could be assured nothing of real consequence was wrong. It made me smile just so slightly.

"And what is so funny Max?!" She asked sharply, though again I could detect that her anger wasn't all that deep seeded this time.

Turning my gaze back toward the sky I spoke slowly. "I didn't laugh." At that she did, though more scornfully than anything else. "Do you know what people will start to say?! That Bendiff's own daughter is going to become an old maid! The talk will be bad enough, but when my mother goes along with it, well I'll never hear the end of it!" She stopped shorter than usual as she huffed a few angry sighs.

Slowly looking back at her I noticed a real look of worry appearing on her face. "I thought you didn't care what anyone thought?" I asked slowly.

She reached out to squeeze the balcony railing in frustration. "I don't! But some things are expected, Max." The last statement was said with a softer, almost desperate tone. It was the sort of voice I'd often heard when a client had come seeking help from Mister Max.

So answering like the Solutioneer, I asked the next logical question. "What is expected?"

Pia glanced sharper at me. "I'm not one of your cases Max!" I felt my shoulders relax back into the role of myself, as a tiny sparkle of amusement stirred that she knew me so well. So as Max Starling, her friend, I asked again. "What is expected?" She hesitated and fidgeted where she stood. She was someone with a nervous secret or either words she'd rather not have to say. Or...as I'd guessed for some time now, she was playing the role of a young woman in love with me.

Crossing her arms again as if that might defend the supposed weakness she was about to display, she answered me.

"I don't care what those snobs think. But... But you can imagine how humiliating it is to be the daughter of the host and not be asked to dance by anyone..." Her words were soft and exposed. And in the few moments that she said them her heart was clearly visible on her face. "I mean it's my father's house even! Those stuck up young men would rather take advantage of father's free food than dance with his daughter!"

Her defenses were back up now, but it was too late. The plot had already been revealed. Turing to face her fully I watched as a few of her blonde ringlets shifted in the evening breeze.

"You'd like me to dance with you?" I said cutting to the solution to this particular problem. Her eyes darted between shock and fear and then back to a stable position of slight annoyance.

"It would help me out yes." She said matter of fact. I nodded slightly as if agreeing to our business proposal. Then offering my arm, we walked back inside to make good on this deal. I had decided I wouldn't let her realize I felt her trembling. I also decided to ignore all the sudden eyes landing on the two of us. So with a pleasant smile filling my face, we simply took our positions, and as the music began I drew her into the mist of the twirling clamor.

We were two young people dancing. She was the daughter of a rich affluent man, and I was an unnamed and unknown suitor. Most likely one of many more to come. The scene was simple, and certainly not unexpected. Yet within ourselves, we knew we were actors on a stage. That our actions were in a sense, meant to be nothing more than a performance. Smiling gently again, I looked into her eyes. She flinched for only a moment, but I knew she had broken character. It was for only an instant, yet again she had confirmed all the suspicious I held about her.

At times she wasn't good at acting, no not particularly. But she insisted otherwise. In reality, I knew Pia always had a certain role she wanted to play, and it was only that part that she would...or perhaps could...do justice to. So I watched as again and again she did what amounted to a crime in theater, she decided to simply play herself. All the same, I could tell she assumed she was doing a very good job with this scene and her respective role.

It was truly bad acting.

But... But I knew that in the swirling mass of dancers no one would notice her mistakes. Just as I assumed, no one would notice if, for however brief an instant, Max Starling decided to drift onto the stage.


End file.
